Easy
by accuracyandprecision
Summary: Rachel hasn't always been the good headmistress. She hasn't always been "Rachel". (Set before Rachel taught at the school - possible S3 spoilers).


"Amanda love, you should come and have some breakfast."  
"Just a sec mum. I really need to get this English done."  
"No use working on an empty stomach."

Amanda glanced up across the room at her mum, and as she did, the warm scent of freshly buttered toast drifted towards her nose. It was a pleasing smell – inviting, something that she didn't feel very often. Not any more.

"Come on then." Her mother, Joanna, smiled as Amanda got up and began to sidle past her.  
"Hey!", Joanna said sternly, glaring at her daughter. "It's all well and good being an A* student but sort that uniform out."

It was true. Amanda was one of the best students at her sixth form, if not the best student. However she'd recently become quite the rebel without a cause. While retying her tie, Amanda cast her mind back, remembering with bitterness at how her head of year had shown her up in front of her new friends about her skirt being too short and her shirt not being tucked in.

"Amanda if you carry on, you and I are going to fall out." Mrs Drury had said.  
Snorts and muffles of laughter erupted behind her back.  
Her cheeks burning scarlet, Amanda rolled her eyes melodramatically. "We were never mates in the first place."

Pulling her black knee-socks up from her ankles, she remembered receiving the first detention of her school career on that day. Of course, Amanda was mortified and incredibly apologetic but she didn't let anyone know that. Her family, on the other hand, didn't let her forget it too soon. With this still fresh in her mind, she took a sharp intake of breath before entering the kitchen.

She quickly exhaled, extremely relieved that her step-father, Michael, wasn't around to taunt her. This made the prospect of breakfast much better. She savoured these moments alone with her mother much like she savoured the hot butter just as it begins to melt. They didn't speak, instead listening to the soundtrack of the ticking clock, but the silence was like a shared understanding. Their time alone together was without burden; it was precious.

Just as the clock struck eight, as if right on cue, the front door barged open, and there was no question as to who the intruder was. Amanda gave her mother a brief peck on the cheek, grabbed her bag and escaped out the back door. She hated it; she hated having to hide in her own home, she hated having to leave her mum alone with him. But this was her life, her daily routine. Life would go on like this every day, at least until she was supporting herself.

"That's a while away, anyway", Amanda thought to herself as she unfastened her top button. It was the usual.

* * *

School was a breezy blur as usual. Her first lessons were hardly challenging: chemistry was soft, with a practical lesson, and in history she received her marks back on her essay. It was an A*, and Amanda was happy as for one, it's difficult to achieve high marks in history and two, she thought she knew nothing about the French Revolution.

"You've surprised yourself there Amanda, but you didn't surprise me. You're a fantastic student with bags of potential." Her history teacher, Miss Rowan smiled.  
Amanda smiled too. Miss Rowan was her favourite and Miss Rowan must have liked her too, she thought, as her essay must have been a grade A at best.

She actually spent her free period with her history teacher, discussing the Vietnam War and whether or not people realise the true meaning behind _Happy Xmas_ by John Lennon, and if the Beatles would ever reform and if they even lived up to the hype surrounding them. Amanda could have stayed like that forever, deep in conversation with her possible favourite person. However apparently the saying "all good things must come to an end" was true, as Amanda learnt when the door to H2 swung open.

"Come on Amanda, what you wasting your free in here with her for?" Lottee jeered, eyes darting between her and Miss Rowan.  
Miss Rowan stood up. "You should go and see your friends Amanda. Have fun", she said, smoothing her skirt.

Reluctantly, Amanda grabbed her things and followed Lottee. The door slammed shut before she had chance to say goodbye.

"I don't know what you hang around her for", Lottee mouthed off. "She's a proper nobhead."

"She was just giving me my result back." Lie. "I don't really like her much". Lie. "Proper nobhead, yeah." **Lie.  
**Her year 8 drama teacher was right, she really did have no future in acting, Amanda thought as Lottee failed to eat up her fibs.  
"It seemed pretty cosy to me. Look, just stay away from her alright?" She posed it as a question, as if Amanda actually had any say in the matter, however her inflection showed she was to keep her mouth shut.

It was times like these where Amanda asked herself why it was she was "friends" with Lottee and her cronies. She was part of a perfectly nice group before. But she saw what happened to them, she saw how nasty the girls were to them, and to Amanda it was a choice of being bullied or being friends with the bully. She took the easy way out, but paid for it.

Amanda found it interesting to note how students and teachers alike moved out of Lottee's way as they walked the corridors. It also seemed to slip the prefects' minds to tell the girls that they shouldn't be in the corridors while lessons were on. She guessed there were some perks.

"Oi, Amanda. Tonight we're going to Olz's for a little 'pick-me-up'. We'll go up town first, meet me at the plant pots after form."

Everything about what Lottee had just said sent off alarm bells in her head. She hated Olz and his mates, she hated hanging around with Lottee and her mates any time not at school, she didn't want to get involved with whatever "pick-me-up" they had in mind, and she certainly didn't want to go to town with them, nor would she be allowed.

"I've got to go home, sorry. Got some history to do." Amanda muttered, suddenly very interested in the carpet.  
"That's funny, cause you got your history mark back this morning. What, you afraid of a little acid?", Lottee demanded, closing in on Amanda as if she were her prey.  
"Or is it that you hate my mates? They too good for you?"  
"No, of course not Lottee-", she started.  
"Good. Then be there", Lottee finished. Amanda's heartbeat began to slow down and she moved away from the display board.

There was a loud crash and the sound of a fist meeting hard plastic.

"Else you'll get that."

Lottee had punched the display where Amanda had just been standing, sending flyers about netball and exam dates fluttering to the floor.

Seeing how scared she was, Lottee threw her head back and gave a cackle not unlike a witch's. She then made a hasty exit, leaving Amanda alone with the mess.

At least she knew what she'd be doing with her evening.


End file.
